OTHER VOICES

Lake Okeechobee a disaster waiting to happen

By Ron CunninghamSpecial to the Star-Banner

Published: Sunday, September 22, 2013 at 6:30 a.m.

Last Modified: Friday, September 20, 2013 at 2:52 p.m.

“Always there was the lake. It gave those who settled around it water for their homes and ... fish for their tables ... Shaped like a giant frying pan, only 20 feet deep at the most, it appeared generous and benign. But there was the water,”

— “Black Cloud: The Great Florida Hurricane of 1928,” by Eliot Kleinberg

Two hurricanes, in 1926 and 1928, killed maybe 3,000 people in South Florida. Most perished when the “generous and benign” Okeechobee rose up from its bed and repossessed the flat landscape around it.

The lessons of those two killer storms should have been: Don’t build homes and towns and farms in Okeechobee’s flood plains.

But we Floridians have always assumed an arrogant mastery over our natural environment. And we have always presumed ourselves capable of obliging the water that is all around us to behave itself.

And so we straightened out the Kissimmee River because we found its twists and turns inconvenient. We ditched and drained the Everglades because all that useless water offended progress. We gouged the mighty Apalachicola River to make a superhighway for barges that really didn’t need one. We drowned the Ocklawaha for cross-state shipping that never arrived.

We did it because we could.

And we punished “Big Water” for its murderous ways by imprisoning it behind a giant earthen berm, the 143-mile Herbert Hoover Dike.

And it had to be a life sentence. How else could we build even more homes and towns and farms in the great lake’s once deadly floodplains?

That the lake itself ­— once one of America’s natural wonders — was doomed to become a giant nutrient-and-arsenic laden septic tank seemed a small price to pay for progress.

But what if Okeechobee does a jailbreak? Ironically, the 80-year-old earthen berm may now be one hurricane away from crumbling.

Dangerously high water levels ­— fed by heavy spring and summer rains — have forced its wardens to dump billions of gallons of polluted Okeechobee water into the St. Lucie River to the east and the Caloosahatchee River to the west, wreaking havoc on coastal estuaries.

“A breeding ground for marine life, estuaries are crucial to the ecosystem,” The New York Times reported last week. “As algae caused by pollutants quickly spread and fresh water overpowered saltwater, oysters died in droves. Manatees, shellfish and the sea grasses and reefs that help sustain the estuaries all were badly hit.”

That massive dumping has eased the strain on the aging dike for now. But Ernie Barnett, interim executive director for the South Florida Water Management District told The Times, “All it will take is one tropical storm to put us in a massive crisis mode.”

It is tropical storm season.

And Florida sits dead center in Hurricane Alley.

Naturally there is blame aplenty being laid.

Gov. Rick Scott blames President Barack Obama for not spending enough money to repair and shore up the dike. South Florida Democrats blame Scott and the Republican Legislature for crippling water management budget cuts. Coastal politicians blame the political influence of Big Sugar for dirty water being dumped their way.

To be fair, Scott and the Legislature are scrambling to fund short-term fixes, like opening up breaches in the Tamiami Trail so water can go south instead of east and west.

The Tamiami Trail, constructed roughly the same time as the Hoover Dike, was deemed an engineering marvel of its time. It afforded cars quick and convenient transit from east coast to west coast through the once impassable swamp called the Everglades.

And if the trade-off for speed and convenience was a disruption of natural water flow from north to south ... well, that was a small price to pay for progress.

If Florida is lucky, there will be no hurricane this season. The Okeechobee will sink back into its stinking prison. The dumping of polluted water will stop.

And we Floridians will once again be masters of our natural environment. Obliging the water that is all around us to behave itself so we can grow and build and prosper.

Anyway, by this time next year we may well be in drought mode again. The aquifers will drop, the Glades will catch fire, sinkholes will open up under our homes and we’ll wish we had all of that useless dirty water back again.

Ron Cunningham is former editorial page editor of The Gainesville Sun.

<p><i>“Always there was the lake. It gave those who settled around it water for their homes and ... fish for their tables ... Shaped like a giant frying pan, only 20 feet deep at the most, it appeared generous and benign. But there was the water,”</p><p>— “Black Cloud: The Great Florida Hurricane of 1928,” by Eliot Kleinberg</i></p><p>Two hurricanes, in 1926 and 1928, killed maybe 3,000 people in South Florida. Most perished when the “generous and benign” Okeechobee rose up from its bed and repossessed the flat landscape around it.</p><p>The lessons of those two killer storms should have been: Don't build homes and towns and farms in Okeechobee's flood plains.</p><p>But we Floridians have always assumed an arrogant mastery over our natural environment. And we have always presumed ourselves capable of obliging the water that is all around us to behave itself.</p><p>And so we straightened out the Kissimmee River because we found its twists and turns inconvenient. We ditched and drained the Everglades because all that useless water offended progress. We gouged the mighty Apalachicola River to make a superhighway for barges that really didn't need one. We drowned the Ocklawaha for cross-state shipping that never arrived.</p><p>We did it because we could.</p><p>And we punished “Big Water” for its murderous ways by imprisoning it behind a giant earthen berm, the 143-mile Herbert Hoover Dike.</p><p>And it had to be a life sentence. How else could we build even more homes and towns and farms in the great lake's once deadly floodplains?</p><p>That the lake itself ­— once one of America's natural wonders — was doomed to become a giant nutrient-and-arsenic laden septic tank seemed a small price to pay for progress.</p><p>But what if Okeechobee does a jailbreak? Ironically, the 80-year-old earthen berm may now be one hurricane away from crumbling.</p><p>Dangerously high water levels ­— fed by heavy spring and summer rains — have forced its wardens to dump billions of gallons of polluted Okeechobee water into the St. Lucie River to the east and the Caloosahatchee River to the west, wreaking havoc on coastal estuaries.</p><p>“A breeding ground for marine life, estuaries are crucial to the ecosystem,” The New York Times reported last week. “As algae caused by pollutants quickly spread and fresh water overpowered saltwater, oysters died in droves. Manatees, shellfish and the sea grasses and reefs that help sustain the estuaries all were badly hit.”</p><p>That massive dumping has eased the strain on the aging dike for now. But Ernie Barnett, interim executive director for the South Florida Water Management District told The Times, “All it will take is one tropical storm to put us in a massive crisis mode.”</p><p>It is tropical storm season.</p><p>And Florida sits dead center in Hurricane Alley.</p><p>Naturally there is blame aplenty being laid.</p><p>Gov. Rick Scott blames President Barack Obama for not spending enough money to repair and shore up the dike. South Florida Democrats blame Scott and the Republican Legislature for crippling water management budget cuts. Coastal politicians blame the political influence of Big Sugar for dirty water being dumped their way.</p><p>To be fair, Scott and the Legislature are scrambling to fund short-term fixes, like opening up breaches in the Tamiami Trail so water can go south instead of east and west.</p><p>The Tamiami Trail, constructed roughly the same time as the Hoover Dike, was deemed an engineering marvel of its time. It afforded cars quick and convenient transit from east coast to west coast through the once impassable swamp called the Everglades.</p><p>And if the trade-off for speed and convenience was a disruption of natural water flow from north to south ... well, that was a small price to pay for progress.</p><p>If Florida is lucky, there will be no hurricane this season. The Okeechobee will sink back into its stinking prison. The dumping of polluted water will stop.</p><p>And we Floridians will once again be masters of our natural environment. Obliging the water that is all around us to behave itself so we can grow and build and prosper.</p><p>Anyway, by this time next year we may well be in drought mode again. The aquifers will drop, the Glades will catch fire, sinkholes will open up under our homes and we'll wish we had all of that useless dirty water back again.</p><p><i>Ron Cunningham is former editorial page editor of The Gainesville Sun.</i></p>